


When You Reach for My Hand, I’ll be There to Take it.

by alwayslily22, Des98



Series: What if? [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Past mention of abuse, Sweet boy, Toddler Harry, Whump, abusive Dursleys mentioned, cranky toddler harry, suck it filch, sweet smol children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 06:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15924968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayslily22/pseuds/alwayslily22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Des98/pseuds/Des98
Summary: Even though Harry is happy and loved now, sometimes things happen to remind them that the Dursleys are not as far in the past as everyone would have liked.  Part of our series of Toddler!Harry oneshots.





	When You Reach for My Hand, I’ll be There to Take it.

    The break in Harry’s leg turned out to be more serious than they’d originally thought, and a week after the incident, Poppy declared seriously that he’d have to wear the cast for a full six weeks.

    “Six _weeks?!”_ Harry cried dramatically, waving his pudgy little arms around.  “Dat’s like, fowever…”

    “I’m sorry darling, that’s just how it has to be so it can get better,” Poppy told him.  “But it’ll be gone before you know it.”

    “Don’t wike cast; it’s all itchy and can’t move good,” Harry sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and sticking his lower lip out.

    “I know baby boy; I’m sorry,” the healer told him, picking him up.  “But we’ll find lots of fun things to keep you busy; tonight all the students will be back.”

    “Ugh, _don’t remind me,”_ Severus groaned as he came in with a bag full of stomach soothers, the last of what was needed before the hospital wing was completely restocked.

    “Unca Sevvy, Mama Flower says I gotsta wear da cast for _six weeks!”_ Harry complained, looking for an ally.

    _“That_ long?!” he gasped, looking at Madame Pomfrey, who looked back at him significantly.

    “Harry sweetheart, would you like to sit in your playpen and eat a lolly for a few minutes?” Poppy asked her son, who cocked his head as his green eyes went wide.

    “Pway!” he agreed, frustrations temporarily forgotten- there was a lot of cool stuff in there.  His Mama Flower set him down in the colourful, fenced in area where the floor was covered in soft playmats, and he immediately scooted as quickly as he could for the large green truck on the other end.

    “Six weeks is a _ridiculously_ long time for a cast in the magical world,” Severus hissed frantically as she came back over after giving Harry a lolly to suck on while he moved his truck back and forth, making ‘vroom vroom’ noises.

    “Don’t you think I _know_ that?” she whispered back harshly.  “His bones are like _chalk-_ it’s like those Dursleys didn’t feed him _at all,_ and it’s taking all the skills I’ve got just to keep him reasonably healthy.  Hell, you saw how high the dosages for the nutrient potions had to be just to get him into the proper weight range for his age, and I _still_ have to put a little in his sippy cup every morning to keep him there (she mixed it with juice so Harry wouldn’t be able to taste it).  Four months is a very significant period of time at this age, Severus.”

    Severus just growled savagely.  “When I get my hands on Petunia…”

    “You will do no such thing,” she scolded him.  “You _know_ how narrowly you escaped Azkaban the first time, and I won’t have you risking your safety just to go and get revenge when Harry needs you _here.”_

    As if to prove her point, the toddler’s little voice rang out across the hospital wing.  “Unca Sevvy!” he warbled, “Wook- I made da plushy move!” He held up his toy dragon, which was flapping its stuffed wings in Harry’s direction.

    “That’s very nice, little man, but what did we tell you about standing on that leg?” Severus asked, looking at the child sternly, hands on his hips.

    Harry sighed crankily. “Notsta do it,” he grumbled, plopping back down on his bum.

    _“That’s_ my boy,” Severus praised, and he couldn’t keep himself from smiling widely as he picked Harry up and kissed his nose.  “Now, how about we go do some brewing now that I’m all done with my work for the day, hmmm?”

    “Yay! Brew!” Harry called, bouncing eagerly on the potions master’s hip.  “Wuv you, Unca Sevvy!”

    “I love you too, you incorrigible little monster,” Severus responded, rolling his eyes.

    “RAWR!” the toddler cried.  “I’m a _scawy_ monsta!”

    “I’m quaking in my boots,” Severus quipped wryly.  “Absolutely _terrified.”_

    “You’re going to raise him to be more sarcastic than his father, _honestly,_ Severus,” Poppy chided him.

    “Oh, Harry is going to be far _more_ sarcastic, and with an excellent sense of timing as well, aren’t you, little man?” he asked the toddler, who nodded fervently, although he wasn’t quite sure what he was agreeing to.

    “Oh, just go play,” she sighed, waving them off.  “Make sure you make it to the feast on time, though!” she ordered Severus.  “You know you have to be a participating member of staff!”

    “Always trying to force us to mingle with the hoi polloi, aren’t they little man?” Severus lamented, and Harry nodded.

    “Roly poly,” he agreed gravely.

    “And yet you’re _still_ the most stimulating conversation I ever get to have around here,” Severus mumbled as they walked towards the dungeons.  “What _is_ this school coming to?”

    “Two two two!” Harry declared.  “I’m dat many!”

    “Yes,” Severus agreed, “yes you are, you little genius.”

_________

    Severus bottled Harry’s latest exemplary potion with satisfaction.  “Now if only my students could be this competent,” he remarked conversationally as Harry gnawed on a biscuit that his Unca Sevvy had given him.

    There was a sudden knock on the door of the classroom, and Severus groaned.   _“What?”_ he ground out, opening the door to find the mutt in his animagus form wearing a sign that said “Harry’s ride to the feast.”

    “You _actually_ expect me to let Harry ride you?” he asked, clutching the child more protectively to his chest.

    “Ride Pa’foot!” the toddler cried, catching on.  “I wantsta ride Pa’foot!”

    The dog animagus looked up at Severus smugly, knowing he could never say no to Harry.  But it was with great reluctance that he set Harry down on the furry beast’s back. His pudgy fists were clenched in Padfoot’s fur and the sweet, musical sound of his high-pitched giggles echoed around the hallways as his godfather trotted merrily towards the Great Hall.  Severus, on the other hand, was _greatly_ relieved when the time came to pick Harry back up and carry him towards his seat at the staff table.

    “Honestly mutt, you could have injured him worse doing that,” he grumbled to the man in a low voice as he changed back into his human form.

    “Aww, we were just having fun- let the kid live a little, eh Harry?”

    But Harry was already distracted by the wonders of the first day of school, his wide eyes on the returning students as he bounced eagerly on Severus’ hip.

    “Bill!” he cried, spotting the returning second year.  “Bill Bill Bill!”

    “Heeey, little man!” the oldest Weasley son laughed, coming over to tickle his chin.  “It’s nice to see you.”

    “I gotsta wear da cast more,” Harry told him in a dismayed voice.  “Mama Flower said _six weeks,_ but I wantstit off!”

    “Oh,” Bill said, looking just as surprised as Severus had, but he quickly collected himself for Harry’s sake.  “Well, don’t worry buddy- I’m sure it’ll fly by.”

    “Fly?” Harry asked, getting excited.  “Like on a broom? I wantsta fly!”

    _Oh Merlin,_ Severus groaned inwardly, his eyes rolling towards the sky.   _I blame you for this,_ he scolded James’ Potter’s spirit.   _Couldn’t have a healthy respect for danger, now could you?_

    “Why don’t we hold off on the flying for a little bit, alright?” Severus said carefully, and Harry looked up at him with a pout.

    “But I flyed with dada,” he informed him.  “I hads a bwoom and _all_ dat stuff!”

    “We’ll see about getting you another kiddie broom once you got your cast off, alright?” Sirius broke in, noting the way Harry’s face started to fall as he thought about dada.

    “But you can’t get anoder dada,” Harry sighed, tears in his eyes.  “I want dada more den my bwoom, but I don’t getsta see dada for a long time…”  And _oh Circe,_ the heartbroken look on his tiny face was enough for even _Severus_ to wish James Potter back to life.

    “Oh Pup...” Sirius let out a long, sad breath.  “Dada wishes he were here too, but I promise you he’s always watching, and I’m sure he’s very proud of you for what a big strong boy you’re being here with us.”

    “Mama too?  Watching Harry?” the little boy whispered, looking up at the two men plaintively.  Severus held Harry tighter and put his forehead against the toddler’s.

    “Always,” he promised.  “Would you like to try to eat something now?”

    “I guess…” Harry snuffled.

    He was rather subdued for the rest of the night, and not even Poppy and Minerva could persuade him to eat more than a few bites of dinner.  Some of the students he’d made friends with the year before came by to say hello to him, but nobody could draw more than a small smile out of the normally cheerful boy.  He didn’t play in the bath that night either, merely sat listlessly in the warm water as his Mama Mins washed his back gently with a wet cloth.

    “I know you miss Lily and James,” she told him.  “I do too.” She didn’t really know how else to make him feel better- how could she, when she couldn’t do the one thing Harry _really_ wanted and bring them back?

    “I’m okay, Mama Mins,” he assured her, putting one tiny hand on her larger one.  “Is jus’ makin’ me sad today, s’all.”

    “And it’s okay to be sad sometimes,” she told him.  “It helps us heal.”

    Harry looked up at her as she wrapped him in a towel.  “So if I gets sad about my leg, it’ll get betta fasta?”  

    The tabby animagus couldn’t hold back a chuckle.  “Well, it doesn’t work quite like that with broken bones,” she told him as she set him in his crib.  “For that, you’ll just have to get a lot of rest and wear your cast.”

    Harry exhaled deeply, a melancholy sound.  “Today’s jus’ no fun,” he declared.

    “Well it’s almost over little man, so don’t worry,” Minerva comforted, helping him into his pyjamas (he couldn’t wear footie ones like normally, though) and settling him into bed.  He was asleep in moments, and she went to the next room to pull back her own covers, climbing in next to her wife.

    The next thing she knew was the sound of mournful, stifled cries, and she bolted up as she and Poppy both ran to the nursery to see what was wrong.

    There was nobody else in there but them, but the baby was in the throes of a nightmare, his tiny body shaking with agonized sobs.

    “Mama no, wake up!  Please mama, _please!”_ he begged, and there was a harsh _thump_ as his cast hit the side of the crib when he thrashed out.  Poppy winced and ran a diagnostic charm, but thankfully the cast had protected the bone from the impact.  She reached her arms into the crib to pick him up, and his back arched as he flinched away from her touch.

    “No Vern, no!” he wailed.  “Please no hits; I’m gonna do betta!”

    “Shhh Harry, shhh,” she murmured softly around the sob in her own throat.  “You’re safe, darling.”

    Large green eyes cracked open.  “Mamas?” he whimpered, biting his thumb anxiously.

    “Mamas are here,” Minerva promised, reaching to pull the thumb out of his mouth so he wouldn’t hurt it.  “Everything’s going to be alright.”

    “I don’t wantsta go back to sleep,” Harry sniffed pitifully.  “Sleep is scawy.”

    “Would you like to sleep with us for the night?” his Mama Flower offered, rubbing his head softly.

    “You keep da bad dreams away?” he looked up hopefully, a pleading expression in his face.

    “We’ll wake you up if you have any more bad dreams; we promise,” Minerva swore ardently.

    Harry looked indecisive for a moment before sighing.  “Okay,” he said, resting his head against the fabric of Poppy’s night dress.

________

    The rest of his slumber was more peaceful, and by the time morning came Harry seemed to have put out of his little mind, for the most part, what had occurred the night before.

    “Well, my sweet love,” Minerva picked him up from his spot cuddled between them.  “Who would you like to go with today?”

    “Wantsta see figgy magic,” he told her, and she laughed.

    “Alright then,” she told him.  “Transfiguration with Mama Mins it is.”

    She waved her wand so that the pieces of Harry’s playpen and a number of his toys flew neatly into the expanded bag where she kept her lesson plans, and the little family went down to breakfast.

    Harry’s lack of appetite from the night before had caught up with him, and a great many cheerios were lost in the line of duty that morning.  The cereal finished, he picked up a handful of fruit and then started on that.

    Severus should have known by now that Harry, being the healer’s son, was always on the lookout to make sure everyone at the staff table was eating breakfast, and yet it was quite early on the first day of classes (and he was _not_ a morning person), so he was still slightly startled when a pudgy fist almost knocked him in the mouth by accident.

    “Eats!” Harry ordered him, waving some fruit under his nose.  “Wook- booberry!” The blueberry was quite nearly shoved in his nostril as Harry pushed it at him insistently.

    “Very well,” he humoured the child, spooning some fruit that _wasn’t_ covered in baby slobber onto his plate.  “I will eat.”

    “Good Sevvy.”  Harry nodded satisfactorily at him, looking quite imperious.  Down at the tables, some of the students that had been watching the interaction laughed.

    “I know what you’re thinking,” Minerva whispered, “and the answer is _no-_ you cannot mark their names down and find an excuse to give them detention later.”

    “I have a reputation to uphold, you know,” he grumbled at her, crossing his arms in an excellent imitation of Harry when he was cranky.

    The toddler himself looked at his mamas.  “Is Unca Sevvy cranky cuz he gotsta deal with da dun… dun… dunderheads?” he asked, finally managing to get the big word out.

    “Yes,” Severus said, at the same time Minerva gently told him “dunderheads isn’t a very nice word, Harry.”

    “But Unca Sevvy used it, and Unca Sevvy is nice,” Harry attested, perplexed.  Professor Sinistra choked on her milk and had to be pat on the back by Professor Sprout.

    “I think a lot of people would disagree with you on that one, my dear,” she told him once she eventually had her breath back, still laughing intermittently.

    “But Unca Sevvy _is_ nice,” Harry argued.  “He lets me brew and he gives me tweats and he never hits me _ever-_ not even a itty smack when I mess stuff up.”

    “Not hitting a child can hardly be considered a yardstick for human decency,” Professor Burbage sniffed, the reminder of Harry’s recent experiences still rather unpleasant for all of them.

    “Harry sweetheart, _nobody_ here hits you,” Aurora reminded him, looking at him with concern- was he really still _that_ afraid of it happening?   
    “Mista Filch hit me once,” Harry argued.  “Wif his bwoom, cuz I was in da way.”

    “He did _what?!”_ Severus, Minerva, and Poppy boomed at da same time, all heads turning to glare at Mr. Filch.

    Harry’s eyes went wide.  “Oops!” he cried, distressed.  “I wasn’t ‘sposedta tell- now he gonna hang me wif da chains!”  His breathing became very anxious as the caretaker cast an evil eye in his direction.

    “Shhh, Harry- nobody is going to hang you in the dungeons,” Severus told him softly, but his eyes were on Filch and full of murder.  “Now could you please tell us what happened?”

    “Was playin’ hide n’ seek wif Bill and Penny,” Harry began softly, his voice nervous.  “I fink it was hot outside- before da train.” He scrunched his little face, trying to remember.  “I was runnin’ down da hall n’ I axadently stepped in a dirt spot he was sweepin, so he smacked me wif da bwoom.  It didn’t hurt dat much, dough,” he mumbled. “Only left a teeny spot. Vern left big spots…”

    “You _bruised_ my child?!” Poppy thundered, turning to Argus.  A bruise here and there wasn’t unusual in a toddler, and the healer had no cause to disbelieve her child when he told her he had fallen or bumped into something as she put some balm on it.  But someone had _hit_ him, and he couldn’t even tell her the truth because he had _threatened to hurt Harry!_

“He’s blowing it out of proportion,” the man argued, meeting her gaze with equal venom.  “I barely touched him!”

    “You touched him enough to threaten him and then scare him into keeping the secret for months,” Severus hissed, voice low and deadly.  “And I’d say he rather downplayed the incident, wouldn’t you?” His wand was raised, and he was getting out of his chair. Harry tugged his robe sleeve frantically.

    “Unca Sevvy, no!” he cried.  “Don’t hurt him- they’ll put you in da bad place where dey took Pa’foot!”

    “Don’t worry dear,” Minerva soothed him, also getting out of her chair.  “Severus isn’t going to hurt him- not before I do, at least…” Harry felt the tension in the room and began to cry.

    “Pwease don’t,” he whimpered.  “I’m sowwy!”

    “You have nothing to be sorry for, dear,” Poppy promised, gently pulling her wife down by the arm.  As much as she herself would have liked to kill the man, it was upsetting the baby, so she was reigning in her instincts.

    Albus, remarkably, had stayed silent the entire time, but now he spoke up.  “It seems,” he began, “that things have gotten a bit out of control this morning.  I think that we perhaps ought to let Mr. Filch go to his duties early today.”

    “Oh,” Severus muttered.  “I don’t think he’ll be doing that.  The castle is far too dangerous a place for a squib, you see, so I think he’s going to turn in his resignation, now that he’s given it some thought…”  He twirled his wand idly between his fingers, one black eye on the caretaker.

    “Yes,” Pomona Sprout agreed.  “Quite easy to injure oneself on the moving staircases without the ability to cast a cushioning charm…”

    Filch, his face white with fear and embarrassment,  cast one look between the angry staff members and the sedate headmaster before hedging his bets.

    “This job was more trouble than it’s worth anyway,” he grumbled, turning around, fists clenched as he shot one last nasty look at Harry, who shrank back.  A number of harsh stinging charms hit his arse on the way out.

    “Well,” Poppy muttered, taking a deep breath.  “That’s one problem taken care of…”

    “Harry luv,” Minerva picked up.  “Nobody is _ever_ allowed to hurt you, and you can always tell us if someone does.  I _promise_ that we won’t let them go through with any threats they make.”

    Harry looked at her for a moment with his big eyes in his tiny face before, seeing the intensity and sincerity of the vow in her face, he nodded, turning back to his breakfast and picking up his sippy cup of juice (with a little bit of nutrient potion hidden in it).

    Severus and Minerva, on the other hand, were still clenching their fists tightly, faces white with rage.  Poppy herself was rather angry, but Harry was still watching her intently from the corner of one big green eye as he sucked pumpkin juice from his cup, so she managed to rein it in so that it wasn’t visible in her posture as she very gently stroked Harry’s head, pulling a stray lock of hair from behind his little glasses and tucking it into the strap in the hope that it would stay there.  One tiny hand reached for another fistful of blueberries, shoving them into his mouth before pulling his slobbery, purple-stained fingers back out.

    Severus’ posture gradually loosened just the tiniest bit as he watched Harry’s chubby cheeks puff out as he picked up some eggs from his tray and sent them to face the wrath of all six of his tiny teeth, humming a little tune under his breath after washing the bite down with another sip of juice.  How could _anyone_ want to hurt him?!  He himself couldn’t have hurt the child if someone was holding him at wandpoint and ordering him too, and _he_ was one of the worst people he knew.

    “Unca Sevvy okay?” He asked, his tiny voice full of concern as his discerning eyes took in the tension in his shoulders and the tight line of his mouth.

    “Yes little one,” he assured.  “Uncle Sevvy is fine.”

    “Unca Sevvy don’t _wook_ fine,” Harry refuted.  “Unca Sevvy don’t eat.”

    “Shhh- Uncle Sevvy is eating now,” the young man promised, picking up his fork and wondering when the hell he’d started referring to himself in third person.  And when his reputation had disintegrated completely; he could see _a second year Hufflepuff_ watching the interaction with a tender look, for Merlin’s sake!

    “Good Unca Sevvy,” Harry crooned softly, clapping his tiny hands together and leaning his head of disheveled curls against the man’s shoulder.  Severus smiled just the tiniest bit- maybe this was _worth_ the loss of his reputation, even if he would never admit it.


End file.
